Broken
by DarkDevices17
Summary: I have a penchant for fixing broken things, but how can you fix something if you're the one that's broken? How do you right a wrong you didn't know you had to begin with? How do you change what already is? How do you take back what you didn't know you said? How do you fix something if you're the one that's broken?
1. So Broken

Broken – Coldplay Fix You

This is my very first story here on fanfiction. I do not write for the reviews or the likes or the favourites, I write simply to release my feelings and for your viewing pleasure. Constructive criticism will be appreciated in helping to improve my story. This is a short one shot and I am debating on whether to continue it or not, if you would like to more to continue then by all means let me know. Thank you for your time.

I have a penchant for fixing broken things, but how can you fix something if you're the one that's broken?

How do you right a wrong you didn't know you had to begin with?

How do you change what already is?

How do you take back what you didn't know you said?

How do you fix something if you're the one that's broken?

If you know, then by all means please tell me. I have no idea what to do, nowhere to go and no one to turn to.

The people who I thought were my friend's, the people I trusted have cast me out without a second thought. They know only one side of the story, but what about mine? What about me? Are our years of friendship so quickly forgotten that they would rather keep me a memory, a black marker on their lives, that my thoughts, my words mean nothing? Someone told me today that if they are so quick to judge then they are not really my friends. My only reply, "they are all I have." And the sad thing is, is that it's true, after years of being together out of happiness, pain, love, loss, joy and so many more memories, is that they are all I know , all I have ever known and I don't know what to do on my own, how to survive without them. Do you know? Can you tell me? If so then please I am all ears.

How do you fix something that is already broken?

How do you survive once your heart has been ripped from your chest and crushed by the people you hold most dear, only to be destroyed because of them? I feel like I am puppet lost in the world which is my life. Never the master. Never the player always the played. These strings which have held me up for so long are loosening, becoming undone day by torturous never ending day. Now I have been cut loose, but I do not feel freed, I feel afraid, I feel lost, I pride myself on maintaining a happy domineer, a smile always gracing my face when on the inside I feel like I'm drowning barely able to break the surface for the precious air my body so craves, always the sympathetic ear when my friends of the few I have come crying to me about their petty problems and of how life has been so unfair and unkind to them when something hasn't turned out the way they wanted. What about others? What about the people who live in squalor while you simper and moan about how your latest boyfriend dumped you or how you got into an argument with your best friend because you took a comment that meant nothing to heart. I sit. I listen. I help you. YOU! Yet I ask for nothing in return other than your friendship, your companionship, your company all for the sake of not feeling alone and lost trapped in the never ending darkness, the murky depths of pity and despair that is my mind. I smile when you are happy, I weep when you are upset, I am angry when someone has made you feel like you are worthless, I feel joy when you have accomplished what you believed to be an impossible task. But now I have nothing. No companionship. No company. No friends. So lost and oh so alone am I that I feel unable to crawl out of the pit that I have created for myself of despair and worthlessness because I feel like I have no one. If I do could you tell me? Would you tell me? Would I even hear you if you did? Would you fix me?

How do you fix something that is already broken?

Some people call me crazy, they think I am strange, that I am different, but isn't everybody? We were all created in Gods own image, yet I feel like he has cursed me. Cursed me and is punishing me for a crime I have yet to commit. My life was condemned before it had even begun. The torture into seeing into the minds of others does that to you, I build walls to separate your thoughts from my own. If I am crazy, then it is you that has made me this way. You that has subjected me to your vile and repulsive thoughts, the things that I have seen you could never begin to imagine, or for me to ever possibly describe.

My heart of which you so callously tore out from my chest feels like it has been ripped open, and every precious memory, every dark secret, every passing thought I have ever had has been laid before you and subjected to your scrutiny. It is a tragedy. If my life was a play written by the Bard himself, it would be classed as a pitiful tragedy. As is my life, pitiful. Not worthy to be written not worthy to be played or cast, only to be cast out as I have been from you. Would you take me in? Would you fix me? Could you if you tried?

How do you fix something that is already broken?

My thoughts of which I am thinking now, whether it is out loud, in my head or on this page are scattered, like the piece of heart. My flesh has been torn off my body, stripped from my bones and has been devoured like the vicious dogs you are. And that is what you are, vicious, a rabid pack of animals, picking on the poor, the weak and the defenceless, looking to your pack leader like a child does it's mother waiting for instruction on what to do. You do not think for yourselves, you never have and I believe you never will. You may even like to believe yourselves individuals, but you are not, you are one entity, one heart, and one soul however twisted and cruel and dark it may be, you all are one and the same no matter much I wish to believe different. There will always be a chain of command to follow, no matter whom you are, you will always listen never to be free, just like I am not free. Nobody is in this world…

Would you take me in? Would you help me? Could you fix me?

How can you fix something that is already broken?

People. That is all we are, all that you are, all that I am. A mass of flesh, blood and bone, to any supernatural in this world, a worthless blood bag. Meat sack. A human. Easily damaged, easily destroyed, easily broken. In the evolutionary food chain we are at the bottom. We are not as cunning, not as devious as the vampires nor do we have the ability to change forms as the weres and shifters that are in this world, and there are many more, to many to count and to many to name but they are there. We may believe we are almighty and all powerful, you may have destroyed me but you will not be able to destroy them just as easily, you do not have the power nor the ability or the capacity to even harm a single hair on their heads. Think of it as a game of chess and they are the opponent, each piece is moved into position and each piece strategically based to give you the best advantage or opportunity to win the game, no matter which piece you move on that bored, they will always be two steps ahead. Nothing like a 1000 year old Viking vampire that I know…

You may have savagely ripped out what was left of my heart, but you were not the first to break it, if you would have looked close enough you would have seen the cracks and fissures that were already there, the pieces you so painstakingly put back together through time, and you would have seen the ones that were yet to form, the ones that had started to take place from your carelessness. He damaged me, I let him into my life, defended him against the people who deemed him to be trouble, I gave him everything and he crushed me like you would the wings of a butterfly, unable to escape, unable to flee and be free. You saved me or a tleast I thought you did, maybe this was your plan all along. Maybe I should have listened to you after all? To him, the man who has done nothing but watch over me even with my stubbornness, I had after all given him more than enough cause to hate me. I wonder…

Do you know a way to fix my heart? Would you take the time to pick up the pieces? To put them back together?

How do you fix something that is already broken?

If I had a heart, it would now be hardened by all the pain and loss and crippling grief that I have suffered of which just seems to keep piling on top of the other. Will it ever end, or is this what my life is destined to be? What you made it to be? I came into this world innocent and pure, now my soul is tainted and I am jaded. He always said that I had a selfless heart, that the laws that governed there world was different, that I would need to create a mask to portray to others what they think I felt and what I was actually feeling. He said that once I entered this world, there would be no turning back, my life would never be normal, not that it ever was to begin with, and that my life would never be the same again. He said this life would change me, his world would change me. I believed different. I was wrong.

I felt an emotion today that I never thought I would feel again. Hope. Hope that if I could find him, someway, somehow, that maybe he could save me; from what I don't know. Myself? Possibly. He is the one who has been there, my silent supporter, a pillar of 1000 year old strength, always there always protecting me, always saving me. He may not have protected me this time, and I cannot be angry with him for that, as it was I who sent him away. I asked for time and that is what he has given me. Now is the time to pay the piper to make the call that could possibly save my life, a life at one point I wanted to give away believing that I was undeserving of it. He would of saved me I'm sure of it, my blood would call out to his, but now it is time to stop thinking of what might have been and concentrate on what could be, if I believe it so. Now is the time to push my southern sensibilities aside and look at the world from his perspective, he has only done what was best for me even if at the time I hated him for it. I was wrong, I see that now, hopefully he will forgive me as I will forgive him if he asks for it. I hope to be his soul, his light in the darkness a candle in a coalmine as I was once told, his saviour. I hope. It is time to make the call…

Can he save me from myself? Will he if I ask? Could he if he really tried? Will he fix me or be the one to permanently damage me? Can he fix me?

I have a penchant for fixing broken things. How can you fix something if you are the one that is broken?


	2. Tired

Tired.

That is what I feel.

Lost.

That is what I am.

Alone.

That is all I will ever be. Forever alone.

I'm tired, so tired of smiling when I have nothing to truly smile for, to truly make me happy, when on the inside I feel like I'm slowly losing my self, fading away into a what was once a dream now called a nightmare. A distant memory of what once was, what could have been and now will never be.

Oh so tired am I.

So I smile that fake smile in hopes that it will mean seeing you happy, seeing your spirit so bright and vibrant that it is blinding to the eye of the beholder. Yet I envy you just as much as I love you, you have something that I wish I had, wish I could have again, but know that will never be. I accepted that when you walked away from me the first time, and I will accept it again when you realise that you cannot fix me. Nobody can, not even you, no matter how much I wish you could. Believe you could.

Oh so tired am I.

So I smile that broken smile. A smile so heart breaking that even the happiest of characters with the sunniest of dispositions will turn away from the sight, to try and wipe their minds clean and un-see the blinding, never ending pain etched onto my face. A smile filled with such misery and loss and never ending sadness of the people that have died because of me. Oh so many, but it is just too painful to talk about and to make me relive it is subjecting me to the worst kind of torture.

These people will never know that, why should they, what gives them the right to know how I feel, to sit there and feign sympathy, while their eyes show me pity of which I do not want nor do I deserve, whilst their thoughts convey that I got everything that has been thrust upon me in this life. That it was my fault. My entire fault, even if they do not know half the story. It is heart breaking to see into someone's mind and see what they truly think of you, how they truly feel about you, it is a sorry sight to see the people you have known you're entire life think you insane, truly insane and think you are some stupid, trashy backwoods hick with no education and no possible way of escaping this horrid godforsaken town.

Oh so tired am I.

As you may recall I said that I loved you, and I do, I truly love you. Yet you cannot love me. I wish you could, I really do but I know that vampires do not feel. No joy, no happiness, no love, or so I was told. Maybe if you were you human we could've had a life together, a happy wondrous life, where you would come home and sweep off my feet and I would smile and laugh and ask about your day and our children would come rushing in screaming "papa, papa your home!" and you will smile that heart clenching smile and say "no matter how long I am gone, no matter how far away I am, even when I am lost, I will always find my home, I will always return to you my dearest children as you are my heart. How could I live without my heart, when it is the only thing that keeps me strong, keeps going, and keeps me alive? I will always return to you, never forget that." And then you would give me that look, the look that says just how lucky we are to have such loving, caring children and a wonderful life. The house that has belonged to the Stackhouse's for over a 150 years, passed down from generation to generation. We would sit on that porch for the rest of our days looking out and smiling fondly watching our grandchildren play and their children's children, and when it is time for us to part on this earth and give our last dying breath you would give me that look and I would now that is time to say one last final good bye. With my last breath I will ask "Carry me?" and you always reply the same way "Always" and with that we close or eyes that once were looking out at the sun rising over our family grounds and walk hand in hand into our forever.

That was if you were human. You are not and in some respects neither am I, and yet I wouldn't change it for the world, change you for the world, and I doubt you would change anything about me.

I am a true romantic at heart, hoping someday to meet my one true love who will sweep me off my feet and carry me away from here. At some point I wished it could be you, I guess I will have to stick to my romance novels and my fantasies of another life we could have had together.

Yet envy you, your will to keep going and your vivacity for life is something I could only dream of, if I ever dream at all. 1000 years you have walked upon this earth, you have seen so many things that I could only ever begin to imagine. I wonder how much more there is for you to see?

I guess I will never know.

Oh so tired am I.

And I am. I'm tired, tired of walking, tired of breathing, tired of fighting, tired of feeling, tired of living.

What can I do?

The answer is I don't know. I don't know my own mind any more. You were my last hope yet you do not answer me when I call. When I cry out for you, scream for you! Have you abandoned me like all the others?

Have you had your fun with the little virgin telepath?

Was I just some sick, twisted game? My answer, is that yes, yes that is all I am to you and you are not even here to contradict me in my thoughts. I loved you and a part of me always will, but I am tired of having my heart broken.

Now I have no heart, I have no life, I have no one.

My one hope.

My life.

My saviour.

My heart.

Where are you now?


End file.
